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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537532">just barely holding on</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatkoi/pseuds/fatkoi'>fatkoi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Angst and Humor, Canon Universe, Cassian Andor-centric, Drinking, Drinking &amp; Talking, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Sex, Excessive Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fighter Pilots, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Partying, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Star Wars Prequel Trilogy &amp; Pre-Star Wars: Original Trilogy, Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Rebel Alliance (Star Wars), References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Romantic Friendship, Sassy K-2SO (Star Wars), Star Wars References, Worldbuilding, all my homies hate general draven, best friends with a droid, friends with benefits but JUST friends, hanging out on yavin 4, just a bunch of rebels having fun and trying not to get existential, we support droid rights here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:26:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatkoi/pseuds/fatkoi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deep within her corner, the shadow of dancing bodies flooded over her; they were reminiscent of the shadow that had covered her cockpit as she flew between two buildings on Bicce, the shadow of the sand temple eroding away, the shadow in her own heart whenever she thought of home. Nida sighed, she was so preoccupied with drinking and thinking (mostly drinking), that she didn't even see him approach until he was sitting beside her.</p><p>"Hey." Said Cassian Andor, as he sat shoulder to shoulder with her. His features looked softer in the dim light, or maybe it was just the rum blurring his edges. The Captain had changed, he was wearing a dark grey long sleeve top, instead of the white shirt and jacket he had been in before.</p><p>"Hi," Nida replied, struggling to vocalize over the pounding music. "You came."</p><p>***</p><p>Join the Rebel Alliance! Become a part of a faceless fight for freedom. Make friends, lose friends, watch friends die. Follow orders, disobey orders, blindly accept everything the General says. Embrace your new home, mourn your old one. Party to remember what it felt like to be happy, drink to forget.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassian Andor &amp; K-2SO, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor/Original Female Character(s), Original Imperial Characters/Original Rebel Alliance Characters (Star Wars)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. i</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Nights on Yavin 4 were always cold. The small jungle moon -and location of the rebel base- was hardly what you could call a safe home. The atmosphere was too thin to keep out the dark and frozen expanse of space, and instead it pressed all around, suffocating. Spinning haphazardly at thousands of miles per hour, Yavin 4 orbited Yavin, a stormy red planet that seemed all too close, and at the same time all too far away. Late nights on the rebel base nearly always turn existential -a side effect of the unfortunately important cause the Rebellion represented. The fate of the Galaxy, and all that. </p><p>Nida Takir sat with her back to the dark expanse of sky, ignoring the rise of Yavin along the horizon, as well as everything philosophical. One hand was tapping restlessly against the knee of her jumpsuit, the other was holding a flask of spiced Correllian rum. Well, not so much holding it, as clutching it purposefully with all the strength she could muster. Nida was never going to let go of this rum. She was going to glue the flask to her hand.</p><p>"It's simple," Sefla began, shuffling a deck of Coruscant Nines cards, the red and blue paper flying through his hands. "There are two factions of the Empire." </p><p>"Two?" Corssin scratched at his red beard absentmindedly. "How do you reckon?"</p><p>Sefla turned around, surveying the outside common area. The large pillared hall was a stretch of seats and cooking spaces, open completely to a view of the rather depressing sky. The Red Squadron was busy throwing scraps of paper into a roaring bonfire, and a few feet from them, Sergeant Melshi was bent over a letter, mouth twisted in a hard line. Of their group, Corssin and Sefla were huddled by the small fire-pit, Nida on the ground with her back against the bench, Adema sitting above her. Sefla had brought one of his recon friends, a Captain. He was leaning against one of the hard-wrought pillars of the common area, eyes fixed on Melshi as the letter shook in the Sergeant's hands. </p><p>As Sefla whipped back around to face them, the firelight glittered on his dark skin, a momentary beauty in the quiet of the hall. Nida took a swig of rum.</p><p>"Simple," her friend repeated, "the Empire has different names for its commanders, according to different people."</p><p>"What an utter load of Bantha shit, Sef." Adema snorted, "they've got one ranking system just like we do."</p><p>"It's not shit!" Sefla looked deeply offended, flipping his cards around without even paying attention to them. "See they've got Moffs, and Grand Moffs and all that, but the Stormtrooper squadron we picked up off Kamino was talking about this dude: Lord Vader or whatever."</p><p>"Yeah Sef, Darth Vader, don't be an idiot."</p><p>"I'm not an idiot." Nida's friend intoned impatiently. "He said Lord Vader, <em> Lord </em>, Adema. Why would he say that if he wasn't talking about a different ranking? A different ranking system." The soldier’s voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, he leaned forward. "A different faction."</p><p>"Maybe he's a priest?" Nida suggested, thinking of the Nedesh Temple leaders on her home planet Akiva.</p><p>"Must be a fucking magical priest to have the Troopers spooked like that." Sefla decided. </p><p>From the pillar, Sef's Captain friend snorted.</p><p>Adema shifted, his shins brushing against Nida's shoulder. "Look, we've dissected every single fucking detail the Empire has thrown at us. Can't we just sit back, relax, and not develop a theory around this conspiracy?" </p><p>Sefla shot their friend a dark look. "It's not smart to prefer ignorance, Adema." </p><p>Nida felt something other than the usual annoyance at her friends twist in her gut. Above her, fellow pilot Adema slapped a hand to his forehead.</p><p>Corssin sighed, lounging back by the fire, his scraggly beard hairs reflecting its light. Nida chewed at the inside of her mouth. It was true, more and more Troopers were starting to tell stories about Lord Vader. Whoever he was, high ranking Imperial General or Mythical Priest aside, it was starting to become clear that he was a major player in the Empire's rise to power.</p><p>Clutching her flask of rum tighter, the pilot stood just as Sefla began to deal. "I'm out this round," Nida informed her friends. Adema slid to the ground to take her place at the fire-pit, and the Coruscant Nines were divvied up.</p><p>Across the common area, Melshi was still poring over his letter; and at the pillar, the nameless Captain was still watching him. </p><p>"These men don't deserve to get hurt." He announced quietly as Nida approached. </p><p>It was such an unexpected and simple thing to say. Seven words strung together to make a sentence, half formed and barely coherent against the light of Yavin rising in the distance, and the dark of a sleepless night -and yet enough to make the pilot pause. She saw... <em>What</em> <em>did</em> <em>she</em> <em>see</em>?</p><p>It was matter of fact, and truthful, and just a little too existential for Nida. She took a sip of rum. The Captain turned to look at her, eyes fixating on the flask in her hand (not her fault, when didn't she have a flask in her hand?), the grease smeared over her orange jumpsuit (not her fault, she was in the hangar all day trying to fix a leak in her A-wing), her dark hair in a messy braid (a little her fault, she hadn't showered in six days), and then her face.</p><p>He bit his lip. "You have a little -" The Captain gestured towards her eyes, and then his own eyes. "Dirt maybe? I don't know." She could hear the impressions of an accent in his voice, deep and lilted.</p><p>"Oh yeah," Nida swiped a hand over her eyelids. Her fingers came away black and smudged. Shrugging, Nida fought the unexpected face-mess with the only solution she could think of. A rather large swig from her flask. </p><p>To be fair, Sefla's friend didn't look so clean-cut himself. The sleeves of his green jacket were crumpled, his dark hair was falling into his eyes. He was unshaven, his weapons belt was on backwards, and he was obviously not wearing deodorant (could Nida truly judge if she wasn't either?).</p><p>When she had tilted her flask down again the stranger had his hand out, palm up. His eyes were fixed on Melshi again, the corners of his mouth tight in a grimace. The firelight glanced off the Captain's features, sharpening his jaw,  and the strong bridge of his nose, hollowing out his cheeks. Reluctantly, Nida handed over her rum, feeling the rough calluses on his palm scrape against her fingers. </p><p>From behind them, Corssin whooped as the stranger sniffed at the opening of her flask. Nida crossed her arms and looked at the ground. She really needed to clean her boots. </p><p>The sound of liquid hitting the bottom of her flask made the pilot look up again. Her companion swallowed and then coughed, burying his mouth in the crook of his elbow. "Is this Correllian?" The Captain asked, wiping the back of his arm over his chin; his accent was thicker than before.</p><p>"Yeah, why?" Nida took the rum back from him, relishing in the familiar feeling of her drink against her hand. "You don't like it?"</p><p>"No, no, it's great." The Captain coughed again, turning to face her completely, the shadow of his eyelashes spread over his cheekbones. "Just a little strong."</p><p>Nida laughed, the sound echoing gracelessly in the near-empty common area. She could feel her friends around the fire-pit shift to look at her. </p><p>The man at the pillar extended a hand, "Cassian."</p><p>She took it without preamble, his palm spread firm and warm against hers, she could feel the edge of a scar pressed against her index finger. "Nida." </p><p>The Captain -Cassian, nodded and let go of her hand. "Alliance Intelligence." He offered.</p><p>"Pilot," she responded. In another time, on Akiva maybe, Nida would have answered differently. She would have introduced herself as a sister, or as a landowner, a daughter. Far away from the resistance, she prayed in the Nedesh, worshipped the sixteen Gods of her religion, grew spices in a box on her window. Before the Rebel Alliance, and before her A-wing and the Empire, she had worn soft leather instead of orange canvas, put charcoal under her eyes instead of grease, or dirt, or mud from Yavin 4. When she was young she spent her free time wandering the city, instead of at target practice, played carefully drawn out games of Massani Strategy, in place of hastily thrown together Coruscant Nines.</p><p>But this was now, this was war, and she was part of a cause. In the rebel base, on Yavin 4, she could only answer: Pilot, because that's all she was.</p><p>And occasionally: drunk.</p><p>Well, more than occasionally.</p><p>Cassian inclined his head, and leaned back against the pillar, his face to the stars and the ever-expanding light. Nida couldn't help but wonder what he would have said, years ago, as an introduction in place of <em> Alliance Intelligence </em>. Couldn't help but wonder how much they would have in common outside the Rebel Cause.</p><p>Flask in hand and back to everything existential, Nida stood shoulder to shoulder with Cassian, watching as Sergeant Melshi threw his letter into the Red Squadron's fire.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>L'ulo was going to kill Nida. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch that, L'ulo was going to roast Nida slowly over a firepit, stretching out her death so that she suffered more, and then probably dance on her grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As blaster fire rocked the pilot's cockpit, she could hear her mission leader sigh in frustration. One hand steady on the controls, Nida swerved her A-Wing back into position, all while cursing heftily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All you had to do," L'ulo hissed, exasperation colouring his voice, "was stay low." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did stay low!" Nida argued, adjusting her helmet so that she could better hear L'ulo crackle through the comms. She dropped her flight by a few feet to avoid another series of sporadic fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mission leader sighed once again and slowed down so that he could pull up beside her. After following L'ulo over the surface of this planet for so long, it was disorienting not seeing the back of his A-Wing stretched out in front of her. "Do you see this?" L'ulo asked, and Nida tentatively turned her head around to watch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lieutenant L'ulo was an experienced pilot, and the leader of almost every mission Nida had flown for the Rebel Alliance so far. He was a graceful flyer, maneuvering his heavy spacecraft through the air like it was weightless. The word was, he had even flown in the Clone Wars, Nida found that hard to believe. Tall, with an angular face, the green-skinned Duros barely looked older than her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This," L'ulo continued, his red eyes fixing on hers through the window of his cockpit, "is the height you should be at." Slowly, taking care to avoid the overhanging arm of a shop awning, the mission leader rose several feet until he was at level with Nida. "This," he said, the pure uncontained sass evident through the comms, and a simple raise of his eyebrowless eyebrow, "is the height you are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay I get your point." Nida transferred her left hand from the top of her control board to the bottom so that she could grip the joystick with both hands. "I messed up, sorry." Another wave of blaster fire rained down on them from the top of a sandy building. The pilot swerved to avoid it, almost clipping the wing of L'ulo's spacecraft. On either side of them, lofty living structures rose out of the ground. People were leaning out of the windows and jeering, some of them were throwing rocks or fruit. "But why are they firing? I thought Bicce was a friendly planet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mission leader sped up, moving to take the lead. "Did you read the briefing package?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I skimmed it." Nida admitted, ruefully glancing at the three page briefing booklet lying on the empty seat beside her. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>skimmed</span>
  </em>
  <span> seemed like too generous a word. Glanced maybe once in the middle of the night whilst drunk, was a more accurate response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bicce is a core planet, so it is more heavily involved in the war than other planets." The Lieutenant made a sharp turn between two buildings, Nida prepared herself to follow him. "It suffers under the influence of the Empire, just as much as it supports the resistance. Different communities hold different beliefs, and so there are just as many Imperial sympathizers as there are Rebel allies."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida spun her A-Wing sideways to fit between the buildings. The sandy walls pressed from all sides, narrowing her field of vision, and spreading a shadow over her cockpit. The pilot was reminded uncomfortably of the sky on Yavin 4, and the way it spread in all directions, seemingly crushing the ground below it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So you're saying that half the people are pro Empire, and half the people are against it, and our mission just happened to end up on the pro side?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," L'ulo mused, suddenly thoughtful, "why can't the people be both." He veered right at the end of the buildings, A-Wing disappearing into the light of the open street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Typical." Nida breathed following him. In some ways, L'ulo's logic made sense. On Akiva, those who prayed in the Nedesh were meant to reject ideas of progression, and modern technology. Nida was both a pilot and Naveshi, two aspects of her identity that contradicted one another. And yet, she wouldn't give up either of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swerving to avoid what looked like a bunch of Bespin Figs thrown from a window above, the pilot felt that she understood the Bicce people more. Like as not, everyone in the galaxy was connected through this war, the effects of both Imperial and Alliance actions could be seen in every city, in every spaceport, on every planet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida brought one hand up to gently touch the necklace at her throat, a token from her home world. Somehow, hurtling above a street in her A-wing, blaster fire and vegetables pressing from all sides, halfway through a dangerous mission assigned by the Rebellion; she felt more philosophical than she ever had drunk and clustered around a campfire at night with her friends. L'ulo dropped his course by a couple feet and the pilot exhaled through her nose, transferring both hands back to the controls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as she did so, her mission leader's voice snapped over the comms. "I have an incoming transmission from our man," L'ulo declared, "I'm patching it through now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Nida's comms filled with a different, familiar voice. "-dor requesting immediate evac from Bicce outreach-" the voice was saying. "-teams are advised to be cautious on arrival, Bicce natives may be hostile-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"May be," Nida snorted as the transmission phased in and out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"-will be awaiting pick up by the docks East of the sand temple. A second passenger is with me-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pilot bit her lip, glancing at the single seat beside her. During the war, some A-wings had been modified so that a teacher could sit alongside the student as he or she learned to fly. Nida's A-wing was equipped with an instructor seat, L'ulo's A-wing was not. In this evacuation scenario, both the passengers being picked up would be jammed into her ship -which technically- was only supposed to seat one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll make it work." The Lieutenant affirmed, as if sensing her apprehension. "We just have to get there first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Roger." Nida agreed, swiping the sleeve of her orange jumpsuit over the visor of her helmet before pressing her foot down harder on the accelerator. L'ulo pushed forward, they had broken out of the crowded city centre, the edge provided large open spaces between buildings, and yet less cover. Up ahead, a towering structure loomed. Tall and dome shaped, the wind seemed to be eroding Bicce's great sand temple right before their eyes. Great plumes of dust rose off of it in waves, spreading outwards towards the heart of the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"East!" L'ulo reminded her as they zoomed past the temple, Nida adjusted her course to follow him more directly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching the shadow of the dust and sand flowing off the temple spread, Nida had to refrain from touching her necklace again. One day, that place of worship would be completely gone, distributed all over the planet by the wind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Nedesh are stone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she reminded herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they cannot be so easily blown away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"There!" Her mission leader pushed his A-wing forward; just past the shadow of the temple, a purple lake glittered. It was bigger than it first looked, and as they approached, it seemed to grow larger, cutting through hills and rock formations on the horizon. Beside it, a ragtag group of shelters were assembled, some made of crumbling wooden planks, others white sand, that reflected the purple of the lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing in the midst of the poorly assembled shacks and docks, was their man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From above, Nida caught sight of a brown jacket with a large menacing looking blaster strapped to it. On the ground beside him was a jumble of something black and metallic looking, like a giant beetle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You go down, I'll cover you!" L'ulo called out, pulling up so he could have a better vantage point. It was at times like this Nida missed flying with Wally Two-Eye. He would come straight down to the ground with her, made completely reckless by sheer curiosity. Instead she was making the trip to the ground solo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she approached, their man began to wave, shooting one hand into the air while the other held tight to the metallic bones lying beside him. Nida pulled up on the joystick, slowing the accelerator so she could loop slowly to a stop beside him. As the engines of her A-wing stilled to a near stop, the pilot hit a button on her control board, opening up the cockpit so he could jump inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you!" Their man shouted over the whirring of Nida's engines. His voice sounded even more familiar than it had over the comms, accented and full of business. "Here can you help-" He was cradling the beetle-like thing as best as he could, trying to throw it into the cockpit. Nida pushed her helmet back so she could see better, trying to grab at the heavy metal bundle. It slid through her hands so she tried hooking her elbows around it, the metal hot from the sun, sand stuck to her fingers. On the ground the man they had come to pick up grunted, trying to lift a large black piece over his head. Nida caught sight of serial numbers on the paint, the edge of a joint, and wait a second... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this a fucking droid?" Nida gasped, bracing a leg against her control board to get leverage as L'ulo made careful loops in the sky above. The man on the ground heaved, pushing the hunk of metal with both hands. "Are we seriously lifting a droid into my baby right now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One final shove, and the last of the black twisted limbs toppled into the cockpit. In one fluid motion, their man hopped in after it, snagging his jacket sleeve on one of its synthetic fingers. There was a brief struggle for space as Nida fought to get back into pilot’s position, and the man jockeyed with the immovable droid for a seat. She could barely see him over what she assumed was the droid’s knee joint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's going on down there Nida?" L'ulo's voice was tinny and small as she pushed her helmet back into position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apologies Lieutenant," Nida began, "we had a little trouble getting the agent's droid into the cockpit, we're all set now." She hit the button to close the transparisteel on them, it came down and then stopped, caught on something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry." The man apologized, removing his blaster strap from where it was stuck in the transparisteel. The window of her cockpit slid to a shut, and all of a sudden, her recognition clicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida jerked her head around, fumbling with the joystick as her A-wing began to lift into the air. "Wait, Captain Andor?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes?" The recon agent they had been sent to pick up leaned forward until his head wasn't blocked by the knee joint of the droid between them. The stubble on his cheeks was coarser, and his hair a shade longer, but Sefla's friend Cassian looked practically the exact same as the last time she had seen him, drinking together at a fire-pit. The Captain peered carefully under the visor of her helmet before his eyes lit with recognition. "Nida right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, Nida with the rum." The pilot looped her spacecraft upward to mirror L'ulo's movements, ignoring the way the droid's dead hand flapped against her elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassian huffed a short laugh. "That's right. I didn't know you were part of the pick-up crew."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not usually." Nida answered as her Lieutenant crackled over the comms, reminding her that they would hit the atmosphere soon. "But General Draven dispatched most of Phoenix squadron to surveill a Star Destroyer hanging around D'Qar, so here I am." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ship rocked with turbulence as they broke through the layer of clouds that separated Bicce from the vacuum of space. As the droid joggled between her and Cassian, she comforted herself in knowing that the turbulence entering Yavin 4 wouldn't be as rough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What were you doing here?" Nida asked. "Why did you need evac?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassian breathed, shifting so that he was sitting all the way back in his seat. The pilot couldn't help but wonder if he was getting motion sickness in her barebones A-wing, shuddering above a core planet at ten times the speed of a TIE fighter. "I was gathering Intel," the Captain began, "blending in with the locals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bicce is a very Empire-friendly planet, as you could probably tell. It's easy to make friends with people who know things, not so easy to make friends with people who are willing to talk. The Alliance had already made contact with a possible informant, a Senator. I stayed in his house. I was about halfway through my planned mission time, when I felt he was going to turn on me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How could you tell?" Nida asked, trying to watch him through the black framework jammed in between their seats. In a couple seconds they would make the jump to Hyperspeed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He was being too nice." Cassian said, and she caught sight of his hands, cradling his blaster in his lap. "Introducing me to all of his political friends, making plans for future visits, trying to pair me up with his son. If you have a Reconnaissance Agent living in your house, you don't make plans to include him in your life, or to get him to stay. You want him out of there as fast as possible."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe you're just really loveable." Nida offered. “Maybe they just can't get enough of you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Captain exhaled a short laugh again and looked down at the blaster in his hands. "No I don't think that's it." He turned it over, adjusting the strap. "I found the records of transmissions to Imperial starships and Imperial sympathizers in his electronic system hard drive, all were regarding a rebel recon man my informant supposedly had in custody."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You." Nida guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassian nodded. "Me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following L'ulo at light speed, Nida checked their eta; they still had about four minutes before they reached the rebel base on Yavin 4. "What about this guy," the pilot nodded at the black metal droid between them. "What's his story?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Captain shrugged. "He's just an Imperial KX series droid. He was tailing me for the last two weeks or so. I found a way to shut him down remotely, I figured I might go through his data files, see what information I could find, and then reprogram him once I got back to the base."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida turned to stare at the menacing looking droid. KX series were used for security, so there was no doubt this droid was as dangerous as he was large. (And cramped. Folded over itself a dozen times, Cassian's stalker droid had taken up all the room in her A-wing). She did not envy him. "Good luck with that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." Cassian nudged the KX droid with his shoulder. "Also, thank you for coming so quickly. It wasn't smart, calling such an unorthodox evac. I know the Bicce people usually throw vegetables."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And figs." The pilot reminded him, "but honestly it was no problem. Just part of the job." Guilt twisted in Nida's gut. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are more than just a pilot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she reminded herself, bringing a hand up to her necklace. "What happened to your informant?" She asked to change the subject. "Will he become a liability now that you've left?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the passenger seat Cassian went quiet. He was leaning back against his chair again, so she couldn't see him through the droid he had brought into her A-wing. "Maybe," the Captain said after a while, "he'll eat the poisoned food I left out on the table. Maybe his family will eat it first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassian turned, she could see a sliver of his face between her seat and the security droid's elbow. He grimaced, "who knows?" Face to the window and hands tight on his blaster Cassian Andor shook his head. "In this life, nothing is certain."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hurtling hundreds of millions of miles per hour towards a rebel base on a distant jungle moon, smushed between a massive imperial droid and the control board of her A-wing, Nida couldn't help but agree.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everyone, I just wanted to restate that there's gonna be some major canon divergence in this chapter, and upcoming as well. I wrote this story before the Cassian &amp; K-2SO special came out, so the story of how they met is a lot different lol. Also L'ulo is here! I'm not sure if that's where he's supposed to be, but oh well, he's here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. iii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>“Party!" Corssin exclaimed as soon as he let go of Nida. The foot soldier was exuberant; as soon as she had clambered out of her A-wing, Corssin had swooped her up in a bone crushing hug. Eyes bright, and orange beard radiant, her friend was smiling uncontrollably, gripping her by the shoulders as he again repeated:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Party!!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, alright!" Nida shrugged him off. Behind her, Cassian was tugging a trolley towards her A-wing. A couple of the pilots who had been chilling around the hangar were inside her ship, trying to remove the massive KX security droid Cassian had brought with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida pulled off her helmet as Corssin diverted his attention somewhere else. "Hey L'ulo!" Her friend called out. "Party! Kris Chi's bunkroom!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green-skinned Lieutenant looked up from where he was filling out a mission report, completely unenthusiastic. Corssin's smile wavered, but didn't disappear, and he turned away before L'ulo could burn a hole in him with his unblinking red eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cassian!" Nida's friend shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. Nida was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the way her hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat. She definitely needed to wash out her helmet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes?" Cassian responded from across the hangar. Him and a few other pilots had successfully transferred the droid onto the trolley, and the Captain looked ready to tug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Party! Kris Chi's bunkroom!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kris Chi's bunkroom was the only place big enough to hold a party, other than the briefing room, and mission control. It was a section of bunkrooms, separate from the main base, that X-wing pilot Kris had claimed for himself after getting tired of listening to his bunkmate snore. Nida had only been to one or two parties since the beginning of the year; both were moderately fun, there was lots of drinking involved, a shit ton of dancing, and a whole bunch of people getting it on in dark corners or storage lockers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Nida's belief that Mon Mothma and Bail Organa were secretly relieved Kris Chi had gone against alliance protocol and renovated the bunkrooms into his own space. It stopped them from having to witness a bunch of drunken rebel soldiers smashing things to the beat of tone-heavy music in the main base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's it to celebrate?" Cassian asked, struggling to maneuver his trolley with both hands. Nida shucked off her white pilot’s vest, unzipping the front of her jumpsuit. The white shirt underneath was damp, pit stains clearly visible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corssin clapped Nida's shoulder enthusiastically, and she swore in pain. Her friend was a big man, over six feet tall and sturdily built from his previous job herding Dewbacks on Tatooine. One whack from his meaty hand was enough to send a shockwave down her spine that made her knees tremble. And to make matters worse, the rancher was incredibly fond of high fives (that had the potential to break fingers).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Phoenix Squadron just returned from their surveillance mission," Corssin announced as Nida blinked tears out of her eyes. "No complications - it was a clean run. Aji'nhi suggested we open a bottle of something to celebrate."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida was all too familiar with the antics of fellow pilot Aji'nhi. With wide-set feline eyes, and a deep purple hue to her skin, the Zabrak had built herself a reputation as the supplier of the Yavin 4 rebel base. Aji'nhi was always making quick trips to nearby spaceports, where she could pick up shipments of different alcohols and spices. This party was probably just an excuse to increase interest in her products. Not that Nida was complaining; Correllian rum was hard to get a hold of in the middle of a war, and if Aji'nhi was willing to get it, well, thank the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassian rolled his trolley closer to them, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his brown jacket. "What about this successful mission?" He asked, accent twisting his words. "L'ulo and Nida flew through enemy fire to pick up me and the droid." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh please," moaned Nida, surveying the front of her A-wing which was splattered with hundreds of different types of food. "Don't remind me of the vegetables."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corssin shot both hands up in the air, revealing an impressive wingspan. "Two victories! All the more reason to celebrate the alliance!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Captain raised an eyebrow before biting a lip, deliberating. "I'll come." Cassian said finally, and Corssin whooped. "But only if someone brings alcohol."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Buddy," the foot soldier snorted, bringing down his hand in one lightning-fast motion to slap Cassian on the arm. Nida felt an overwhelming rush of empathy. "You don't even know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I reckon it's time to head out." Corssin announced. "It's getting dark already." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida sighed and dropped her wrench, pressing the heels of her hands to both eyes. Corssin was right; the light was already fading from Yavin 4's horizon. From her vantage point lying underneath her ship, she could see a speckling of stars through the open bay doors of the hangar, bright through the moon’s too-thin atmosphere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can already hear the party starting," her friend told her, shuffling his black boots against the floor. Corssin always kept his shoes immaculately clean; in fact, they were probably the most-groomed part of him. Nida took her hands off her eyes, all too aware that she had probably just smeared a mask of motor grease on her face. Outside, muffled shouts and cheering could be heard, as well as the dull thudding of some indistinct music. Corssin leaned his head down so that he could see Nida. "Do you wanna get going?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida groaned, leaning forward to gently head-butt the sleek metal on the underbelly of her ship. Her A-wing was a mess. The white paint was streaked with stains, there was at least a pound of Bicce sand lodged in the joints of the hatch, not to mention layering the seats of the cockpit. A black starburst pattern of blaster fire was burned into the metal above and below the engine, and on both wings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corssin had hung around for a while after Cassian had dragged his droid off to the mechanics lodge. He had been happy to talk about everything that had happened on base while she tried in vain to scrub Bespin fig seeds off of her windshield. After a while he'd sat silently and handed her tools while she tinkered, but now he was restless. One hand absentmindedly scratching his beard, a toe tapping against the floor, Corssin awaited her answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm so sorry, baby," Nida whispered, forehead still pressed against her ship. "I'll give you a nice chemical wash tomorrow, I promise." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her friend pumped his fist, smile a mile wide. "We're going?" His teeth were practically glowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida lowered her head slowly to the floor, bracing two hands against the underside of her ship so that she could slide out along the floor. She grabbed the greasy wrench from where it was dropped on the ground before she stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- well, before Corssin basically lifted her up one handed in a singular smooth motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is going to be awesome!" Her friend was still beaming as he took the wrench from her hands and replaced it with her pilots vest and helmet. "When was the last time the four of us were at a party together? And Cassian too?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida raised her eyebrows, she didn't think she'd ever been to a party with the Captain, or even seen him around the base until Sefla brought him to the fire-pit a couple months ago. Honestly, Cassian didn't really seem like the party type. Nida thought of the story he had told during the trip from Bicce, the poisoned fruit. "You really like him that much?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corssin shrugged. "He's a good guy. Secretive, but hey. Who hasn't got their secrets nowadays?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You." Nida offered, which was true. She could name every single one of the Dewbacks Corssin had herded, the square footage of his ranch, all of his childhood school teachers. The foot soldier was an open book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her friend grinned, tousling her hair. (Could he not see it was in a braid? Did he not know that he was just messing it up further?) “And I'm one of a kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida rolled her eyes and grinned. "You head down, I think I'm going to hit the showers in my bunkroom." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together they walked towards the doors, Nida holding her white vest and helmet, Corssin bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Sounds like a plan," he waved as they parted. "I'll save you a bottle of Correllian."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A barrel!" Nida shot back, turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk back to her bunkroom was uneventful, besides L'ulo stopping her as she passed the medbay to remind her that General Draven wanted to see both her and Cassian in mission briefing the next morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So don't stay up too late partying," he had warned her, red eyes all too knowing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside the mechanics lodge, Nida waved to the red R2 unit she had made friends with when she had first transferred to Yavin 4. The droid screamed a series of shrill shrieks at her until she knelt. "Hi tiny friend," the pilot began, "how's life been?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The droid whirred, responsively twisting its metallic head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's good." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evidently not finished, the R2 unit rolled forward, smacking into her knee, beeping faster than she could understand. "Whoa little buddy, hold your fire!" Nida chuckled, glancing up into the open door of the mechanics lodge-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-and right at Captain Cassian Andor. Blowtorch in one hand and screwdriver in the other, the Captain was kneeling over the black KX security droid they had picked up on Bicce. His hair was a mess, pushed back from his face by a pair of black goggles that were meant to guard against the glare from the blowtorch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi," said Nida.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The R2 unit rolled away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Cassian replied shortly, pushing the hair the goggles hadn't trapped back from his eyes with his forearm. "I thought you were heading to the party." Clad in just a white shirt and a pair of black pants, there was a streak of motor oil leading from his forehead, across his nose and down to his chin. His brown jacket was lying on the floor by the droid, a couple feet away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida broke her gaze away, clambering to her feet. "I was just heading there," she fumbled with her helmet. "I was going to shower first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright." Cassian curled his shoulders forward in a sort of half approximation of a shrug. Every word of his next sentence was carefully spaced out, thoughtful. "Maybe I'll see you there?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah I hope so." Nida replied, thinking about how Corssin said: </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's a good guy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Thinking about secrets. Resisting the urge to touch the necklace at her throat, Nida gestured at his face, and then her own face. "By the way, you have a little-" she bit her lip to stop from grinning. "Dirt maybe, I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping his screwdriver, the Captain dragged his wrist over his forehead, and swore when it came away black. The pilot chuckled before strolling away with a little backwards wave of her hand. She made it all the way down the hallway before realization struck her like a bolt from a blaster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Both of you in mission control, L'ulo had said, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but she was too lazy to turn back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida showered quickly, scrubbing away the sweat and grime that came from sitting in her A-wing all day and tearing the knots out of her hair. She took special care with the twin octagons that dangled from her necklace, letting the cool water run over them before she dropped it back against her collarbone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she was finished she towelled down. The sounds of the party were even louder now, so loud she could hear them from her bunkroom deep within the base. Her friends were out there: Adema, Corrsin, Sefla, Cassian maybe.... Rum. The thought of having a nice warm drink spurring the pilot, she changed as fast as she could into black pants and a grey tunic. Nida grabbed her metal flask in one hand, slamming the door to her bunkroom closed with the other, reserved to braiding her wet hair on the way there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a quick exit out of the base and into the cool night air. Thick grass twisting underfoot, Nida kept one eye on the light flooding out of the collection of bunkrooms separate from the main base, so as not to get lost on the horizon. The music pouring into the night air was so loud it made her whole body thud. One of these days, Mon Mothma and the rest of the alliance were going to realize just how impractical parties were. But for now, the rebels had just enough freedom to go a little crazy for one night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was exhilarating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Takiiiiiiiiiiiiir!" Someone called out as soon as Nida stepped inside, a pair of arms barrelled into her, and then a leg, and suddenly she was holding Sefla, as he swung his feet off the floor. "Guess where Aji'nhi is!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," Nida struggled under the full weight of her friend. The lights in the bunkroom were dimmed, rebels everywhere pulsing to the beat of the music. She could see Corssin dancing haphazardly with a tall Twi'lek girl she recognized from Phoenix Squadron, which meant that he hadn't saved her a barrel of rum, which meant-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pilot gasped, gripping her friend tighter. She was holding Sefla like one might hold a baby. "Oh stars, Sef! Tell me there's still alcohol left!" She shook him. "Where are the drinks?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her friend giggled, pressing his forehead against hers. His breath smelt like Piwa Fruit. "The real question is, where is Aji'nhi?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida relented, dropping him to the ground. "I don't know, where is she?" Sefla flashed her a cheeky grin, teeth impossibly white against the dim of the bunkroom. Gripping her by the elbow, her friend lead her through a throng of dancing people. Corssin whooped as they passed him, offering up a deadly high-five, which Nida moved to avoid. Sef wasn't so lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Over here," her friend called over his shoulder, clutching the ear that Corssin had hit. Together they moved through a doorway, into an even bigger room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida dropped her mouth open in surprise, staring at the people jammed body to body, swaying to the beat of the music. She spotted Kris Chi standing up on a table with his pants off, and Corporal Wells leading a pit of dancers, engaged in performing complicated moves that required an abundance of flexibility. Sergeant Melshi was passed out in a corner, empty glass in his hand... but the people! How in Ghani's name were there so many people?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sef!" The pilot stopped her friend before he could advance further into the crowd. "Is every foot soldier in the alliance at this party?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sefla pulled her closer to him. Nida was short, but he was shorter, the top of his bushy hair level with her eyes. "Not every foot soldier!" He shouted in her ear. "More like half!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hand flickering to her throat, Nida let herself be dragged into the mess of rebels. Ducking under flailing arms and tentacles, she could feel her flask in the back pocket of her pants, just waiting to be filled. Her friend's grip on her elbow was tight, squeezing through a clump of soldiers Nida didn't recognize, until they reached the back wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There, sitting on a chair was Adema. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there, sitting on Adema, was Aji'nhi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tall and wiry, with pale skin and dark hair, Adema was the third of Nida's only three friends. He was a supportive person, a methodical thinker, and he never hesitated to tell people his exact opinion on subjects that didn't actually concern him. In short, he was obnoxious, a tad judgemental, and forever living in a state of perpetual deadpan. Which was why seeing Adema at a party with a Zabrak girl draped over him (and clearly enjoying it!) was a bit disorienting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sefla turned around, eyes gleaming mischievously. Nida shook off his hand, bringing hers up to her mouth to hide her laughter, but it was too late; Aji'nhi whipped her head up at the sound, glaring, and Adema followed suit, peeling his eyes open sluggishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh man, I'm sorry." Nida giggled, ignoring the way Aji'nhi's golden feline eyes bore into her. Underneath his partner, Adema blinked with confusion, sleepy eyes flickering from her (as she stifled her laughter), to Sef (doubled over with his hands on his knees), to the girl on his lap. The fact that Aji'nhi was no longer sucking face with him should have tipped Adema that something was up, and yet it didn't. Their friend slowly dropped his head back down onto the chair and closed his eyes. Sefla howled with laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was unexpected." The pilot told the rebel base's resident supplier, and beside her, Sefla wiped tears from his cheeks. Slowly, recognition dawned on the Zabrak’s pretty face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aji'nhi leaned back until her shoulder was pressed against Adema's slumbering chest. "Hey you're Nido, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nida," Nida replied, "but close enough." She was kind of glad the supplier had recognized her; there weren't really a lot of people who knew her on base. There were at least three, but compared to the probably hundreds of people who knew Aji'nhi, three didn't seem like a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aji'nhi grinned, suddenly friendly. "Addy told me to save you this!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pilot turned to Sefla. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Addy</span>
  </em>
  <span>? he mouthed, clearly having the time of his life. The supplier twisted in her seat, reaching underneath both her and their friend (who had just been given an unforgivable pet name), to bring out...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gasping, Nida grabbed the bottle of prime Correllian rum with both hands. It was clear enough to see the amber liquid inside, she could practically taste it already. "Thank Avon," she cried out, clutching the bottle close to her chest. "Honestly Aji'nhi, you are the best!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Avon," the Zabrak queried, looking amused. Nida felt a flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the party, or the dancing people, or the prospect of a drink. "You must be a Naveshi! That's so cool, I've always wanted to go to Akiva." Before Nida could answer, Aji'nhi was already turned around, preoccupied with trying to get Adema to wake up. "Well, enjoy your drink."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida pushed the bottle of rum so close she could feel it against her pulse. "I definitely will." She turned to Sefla, who had gone from looking amused to confused. "I am going to treasure this drink with my life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her friend blinked at her. "I don't get it." He shifted his gaze to focus on Adema, who was being coaxed back awake by the woman on his lap. "Aji'nhi is like, really fucking hot." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging, Nida led Sef away from the couple. "So is Adema." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sefla tilted his head, following her into the overwhelming crowd of people. "Really? I mean he's tall I guess, but not as tall as Corssin..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everyone is tall compared to you." She grabbed his shoulder as he shot back an insult. "I'm going to go find a dark corner and drink. Don't bother Adema too much, it looks like he's having fun."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See you later, shortstock!" Sefla shouted after her as she turned away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning, Nida shook her head. The bottle of rum was tight in her grip, her flask burning a hole in her back pocket. Surrounded by music and people, it was hard not to enjoy herself. She made her way into the first room again; it had quieted down a smidge, and Corssin could no longer be seen flailing his arms in a way that made him a risk to other people. Through the open door of the bunkroom, Yavin was rising, bright against the horizon. Nida found a corner and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until she was sitting on the floor. Inside the bunkrooms, there was an energy that was hard to replicate anywhere else. People were living hard and fast, under the harsh reality that all of this might be gone tomorrow. Daylight was coming, but the pilot didn't want this night to end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida unscrewed the bottle, taking her flask out of her back pocket. Liquid swishing, she filled the metal canister up to the brim, preparing to save it for later. The rest of the bottle, she was going to drink tonight. Just that thought made the pilot happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep within her corner, the shadow of dancing bodies flooded over her; they were reminiscent of the shadow that had covered her cockpit as she flew between two buildings on Bicce, the shadow of the sand temple eroding away, the shadow in her own heart whenever she thought of home. Nida sighed, she was so preoccupied with drinking and thinking (mostly drinking), that she didn't even see him approach until he was sitting beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," said Cassian Andor, moving to sit shoulder to shoulder with her. His features looked softer in the dim light, or maybe it was just the rum blurring his edges. The Captain had changed; he was wearing a dark grey long sleeve top, instead of the white shirt and jacket he had been in before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi," Nida replied, struggling to vocalize over the pounding music. "You came."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Cassian said back, absentmindedly tapping the fingers of one hand against the opposite wrist. "I arrived with the second wave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Second wave?" The pilot questioned, taking a sip from the bottle. Without counting the stuff tucked away in her flask, she had already drank half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Captain nodded. "A bunch of X-wing pilots decided they would join in the fun." He turned to morosely survey the crowd of dancing rebels. "So much fun."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This will make it even more fun." Nida offered, handing him her bottle. Usually she wouldn't be sharing her liquor unless he asked, but Cassian looked sort of... alone sitting there. In a way, he was apart from the rest of the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took the bottle without hesitation. "Where are Sefla and the rest of them?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida shrugged, feeling her shoulder move against his when she did so. "Sef and Corssin are out there, somewhere, and Adema is currently hanging out with Aji'nhi."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The supplier?" Cassian asked through his mouthful of rum. She nodded but didn't elaborate, watching as her companion swallowed and then wiped a hand over his mouth. "I followed your example and showered." He told her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pilot grinned. "What, to get the black smudge off your face?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't even know what that was." He admitted, staring through the neck of the bottle at the drink below. "This is really good." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It really is." Nida held her hand out so that he would pass the rum back. "This is what I love to do at parties. Drink myself under the table."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, no dancing?" Cassian asked, a bit of humour colouring his voice, as he knocked his knee against hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No dancing." Nida replied, taking a swig. "Sitting and thinking maybe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you think about?" The Captain asked, watching her. His accent shortened the </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>, elongated the </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and made the </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> sound like </span>
  <em>
    <span>theenk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Nida was officially fond of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh stars." She said. "Usually everything. Even the existential and terribly depressing stuff." Her eyes were fixed on his eyelashes, which were much too long, and dark. "Although I try to avoid thinking about that." She breathed out, settling against the wall. "Everyone tries."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sometimes it's easier to forget," said Cassian, and his voice had dropped a pitch, "that we are living through something horrible. That we are doing all these horrible things." He turned away from her. "Sometimes it's easier to not think." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no answer to that, not really, not one that would make a difference. Nida handed the bottle back, bringing her flask out of her pocket. Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't be saving any for later, after all. Back to the wall, and facing everything existential, the pilot clinked her drink against Cassian's. "Cheers." She said, before taking a swig.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn't know how it happened, but it did. One minute, they were sitting on the floor, drinking. The next, they were here, the small of her back pressed against the shelves of the storage locker, his hands untangling her braid. They were much too close, pressed body to body, all harried breaths and insistent hands, just breathing each other in. Cassian smelled like the inside of her A-wing, the hot sand on Bicce, the jungle moon air she was so familiar with. As he pressed her harder into the shelves he smelled like sweat and motor grease and all the things one shower couldn't wash away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nida shifted, moved her hands from his hair to his waist, fingers sliding against the cool skin of his hips, between the fabric of his shirt and pants. Cassian angled his head, bumping his nose against hers, beard scratching against her chin. Something clattered to the floor, was that her flask? Her braid was completely undone, damp hair tumbling around her shoulders. It was his belt, his belt that had fallen to the ground, so easily heard against the pounding music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Nida struggled to kick off her own pants, her partner kissed an impatient line down her neck, fingers tangling in the chain at her collarbone. One pant leg was stuck on her boot, and she kneed him in the thigh trying to shake it off. The Captain tasted like heat and night air, and all fifteen spices in a bottle of Corellian rum. Nida pushed her hands underneath his shirt, until they were pressed flat on the skin of his back. In one smooth motion he reached down, grabbed her by her naked legs and lifted her off the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The back of her skull cracked against a shelf, but it was like she didn't even feel it. Wrapping her legs around Cassian's waist she pushed closer, tearing her hands out of his shirt, cupping his jaw. They were kissing; they had been kissing for so long she no longer remembered what it felt like when his mouth wasn't on hers. The pounding of the music drowned out all her thoughts, and the dark of the storage cupboard kept the light of Yavin rising at bay. Her partner jolted and Nida gasped against his cheek, curling her fingers tighter around his face. For some reason they were quiet, every reaction, every sound contained. It was just them in here, and a hundred people outside the door. A hundred people dancing and laughing, carefree and oblivious to what was going on in a closet a few feet away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scar on the heel of his hand - the one she had noticed the first time they met - was firm against the back of Nida’s neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pressed closer.</span>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, this fic has been a work in progress for a couple years but I'm finally getting around to publishing it. Because it's taken me so long, the writing kind of varies from chapter to chapter. Hopefully I should be posting one chapter every two weeks. Just a disclaimer, this fic is pretty loose to the canon (ie. I made up a whole religion :/ ), please feel free to comment any suggestions!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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